


almost like a fairytale

by ladydetective



Category: Book of the Ancestor Series - Mark Lawrence
Genre: Accidental Baby Acquisition, F/F, Post-Canon, Post-Canon Fix-It
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-26
Updated: 2020-11-26
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:07:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27730510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladydetective/pseuds/ladydetective
Summary: Apple and Kettle discover a baby abandoned at the Convent doorstep. Feelings - and a lot of sleepless nights - ensue.
Relationships: Nona Grey/Arabella Jotsis, Sister Apple/Sister Kettle (Book of the Ancestor)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 13





	almost like a fairytale

**Author's Note:**

> this follows on from my other two apple!lives fics. you don't need to have read them, but there's a handful of references. also, spot the skyrim reference. 
> 
> please leave a comment if you enjoy it, they make my day :)

Kettle giggled as Apple stumbled over her own feet, the alcohol in her system making everything appear funnier than it otherwise would have been. It was a cold night - the wind had a nasty bite to it if you stayed in it too long, but in their current state they didn’t really care. They’d spent the evening in Verity, taking dinner in a restaurant before sharing drinks in a local tavern. It had been a pleasant outing, all around - they’d danced and flirted, and now hoped to retire to the Shade Caverns for the natural conclusion to the evening.  _ If _ they could make it back up to the Convent, that is. 

“Laugh all you want,” said Apple as she righted herself, “But  _ I’m _ not the one who’s gonna have to put up with myself in the morning. That’s  _ your _ job.”

Kettle quirked an eyebrow, an amused smile playing at the corner of her mouth. “Oh? Is that so? You know, I could just go back to my cell, leave you to go back to the Shade Caverns aaaalllll on your own.”

“Please, you haven’t slept in your own cell in well over a year.” It was true - Kettle had officially been permitted to stay with Apple after the battle to monitor her recovery - but that was many moons ago now, and she had yet to leave. It wasn’t something that would have been permitted under the tenure of Abbess Wheel, but Abbess Rule had thus far declined to comment. Still, she kept her face neutral, enjoying where this conversation was going  _ far _ too much. 

“Besides,” Apple said, sidling closer. Her expression became something that can only be described as a pout. “I plan to make it worth your while.”

She kissed her. It was messy, addled by their intoxication, but after so many years together their mouths were so intimately acquainted with one another that they knew what to do. Kettle leaned into it, raising her hands to cup her lover’s face. She’d never get tired of this - never get tired of Apple. The other woman was her whole world - she couldn’t imagine her life without her in it. 

A distant cry interrupted their embrace. They pulled away, confusion and curiosity in almost equal measure written across their features. The cry sounded like that of an infant - but how could that be? They were miles away from Verity at this point, and only the Convent lay ahead. The youngest child there was eight - this one sounded much younger.

Kettle moved to investigate, but Apple grabbed her arm. “Keep your guard up,” she said, her brow furrowed, “this could be some kind of ambush.”

They moved towards the sound together, paying close attention to the nearby treeline. The alcohol they’d imbibed made this more difficult that it otherwise would have been - for the first time that night, she regretted their activities. As Grey Sisters, they didn’t usually drink - at least, not outside the Convent - but everything had been so quiet lately, they figured they would be okay. Abeth had settled into a period of tentative peace after its years of war and bloodshed, and even common ruffians who would usually be making trouble seemed unwilling to break that peace. A Sister of Discretion’s work was never done, of course - but their workload could be lessened, as was currently the case. Still, she didn’t notice anything amiss - which only increased her curiosity. 

The noise was coming from a tiny bundle on the ground, almost at the Convent’s door. It was a wonder those inside didn’t hear it - whoever was supposed to be on guard needed to be talked to. With a quick glance at Apple, Kettle bent down to pick it up.

_ It _ was a baby - a small one, at that. Couldn’t be more than a few weeks old, if even, judging by its size. It was wrapped in a tattered blanket, but little else. As soon as it was in her arms, it quieted. This worried her more than the screaming - it was like the poor thing had run out of energy to do anything else.

Panic seized her. “Appy, it’s lips are turning blue.” 

“Ancestor’s breath,” Apple swore, “It's freezing. Who knows how long it’s been out here for - we need to get it to the sanatorium now.” She took off her own cloak, wrapping it gently around the baby. “Let’s go, quickly.”

* * *

When they entered the sanatorium, Rose was at her desk filling out paperwork. She wore her nightgown, clearly ready to turn in for the night. Around her, injured novices slept in their cubicles. She looked up when Apple and Kettle rushed in, and opened her mouth to berate them for disturbing the peace at so late an hour. She closed it when she noticed the bundle in Kettle’s arms.

“What on Abeth?” she asked, confusion creasing her brow. 

Kettle handed the baby over to Rose. “We found it on the doorstep - it’s freezing, Ancestor only knows how long it’s been there.” 

The Sister Superior examined the infant, a worried expression on her kind face. “She’s freezing, but if we act fast, we can save her. We need to heat her up - you,” she said, looking to Apple. “Get blankets from the store cupboard, as many as you can carry. You,” she faced Kettle this time, “light the fire.”

They both ran to do as Rose ordered, their heads brimming with questions - but those questions could wait. They had a baby to save. 

Kettle lit the sanatorium’s fire, and Apple returned with blankets. “Heat the blankets by the fire, we’ll wrap her in them as they get warmer.”

The three nuns spent the better part of the rest of the night in a continuous cycle of sitting by the fire and passing the baby around as they wrapped her in heated blankets. It seemed to make little difference at first - she remained alarmingly pale and still, and hardly made a sound. At several points, it looked like they would lose her. But the little girl was a fighter - she never gave in, and neither did the women caring for her. 

After several long hours, progress was made. Colour began to return to her cheeks, and she let out an indignant cry. Kettle felt tears of relief sting her own eyes at the sound.  _ She’d be okay _ . Apple and Rose appeared likewise soothed - they’d all become attached to the little girl after hours of caring for her, and were invested in her survival.

“Praise the Ancestor,” said Rose. “We know he works in mysterious ways, but I must admit… a babe on our doorstep… mysterious, even for Him. Still, we are nothing if not His servants, I suppose… she may well be warm enough to take a bottle now. I’ll go and see what I can find. Keep her by the fire.”

The baby squirmed from her position in Kettle’s arms, a contented expression appearing on her tiny face. Apple got up and wrapped an arm around Kettle, planting a kiss on her forehead as she did so. 

“She’s a sweet little thing, isn’t she,” she said, running a gentle finger over her cheek. “But where on Abeth did she come from?”

Kettle frowned, considering. “It must be someone from Verity, someone who couldn’t - or wouldn’t - care for her. Maybe she was desperate - we’re a Church of the Ancestor, perhaps she thought we were in a better position to take care of her than she was?”

Apple snorted. “If that’s what she thought, she was wrong. We’re not a nursery - besides, she left her on the freezing ground in the middle of the night. If we hadn’t found the poor girl, or if we’d found her later, she would have  _ died _ .”

Before Kettle could reply, Rose re-entered, an ancient-looking bottle filled with milk grasped in her hands. Ancestor only knew where she managed to find that - she couldn’t remember ever seeing a baby in the Convent. Perhaps a visitor had brought a child with them and left it. 

“Here, dear,” she said, handing the bottle to Kettle, “See if she’ll take this.”

Kettle had never done this before - she was an only child, and had scarcely even seen any babies since joining Sweet Mercy. Still, she placed the bottle in the baby’s mouth - the little girl latched on and began drinking greedily. 

From her position beside Kettle, Apple chuckled. “Someone’s hungry… she looks like Nona Grey at mealtimes.”

“I’ll tell her you said that - I’m not sure she’d appreciate the comparison.”

“Perhaps not, but Arabella would.”

Kettle laughed - a deep, genuine laugh that bordered on hysteria. This certainly hadn’t been what she expected when they went out for the evening - she thought they’d go out in Verity and have a few drinks before returning to the Shade Caverns to continue the fun. She’d anticipated a certain level of disaster and had carried her throwing stars as a precaution. She  _ hadn’t  _ foreseen spending the night in the sanatorium with a baby that had been thrust into their care. 

“You know,” said Rose, with an air of contemplation about her, “her umbilical cord looks freshly cut - it hasn’t fallen away yet. She’s only a few days old, at the very most. Possibly, she spent her first few hours of life alone on our doorstep.”

Kettle’s heart constricted at the notion, her laughter quickly dying down. The poor little thing - spending her first hours alone in the cold, with no one to hold her, no one to comfort her. She thought of her own childhood, then - abandoned at the age of eight by a mother who’d preferred the company of a sea captain to that of her own daughter. Sweet Mercy had become her refuge - a place that replaced a home she was no longer welcome in. Perhaps it could do the same for this child - perhaps it was not a coincidence she was left on their doorstep after all.

“What’s going to happen to her?” she asked, quietly. Apple caught her eye, understanding written in her expression. They’d been together more than fifteen years at this point - the other woman knew her better than anyone else on the planet. She would realise where her mind was heading. Kettle handed the baby over to her. 

“I don’t know,” answered Rose. “We’ll get the Abbess involved in the morning. Doubtless, she’ll want to track down the birth mother. We could perhaps look into orphanages - but again, that isn’t something that can be done until daybreak. She’ll have to stay here for the rest of the night. We’ll take turns watching over her.”

Kettle nodded, uneased. She couldn’t stop thinking about her mother, and the baby’s. She didn’t know what was worse - knowing and loving the woman who’d given birth to her and then losing her, or never having known her at all. Still, one thing was clear. A part of Kettle identified with this child, and she would not see her come to further harm.

* * *

Abbess Rule came to them at first light. She looked grim - no doubt she’d been informed of their situation. The other woman was settling into her office well - she didn’t have the instinctive flair for politics that Abbess Glass had, and her faith was not as bombastic as Wheel’s had been - but she was a capable administrator, and carried the respect of those under her command. 

Apple sighed and did her best to rub the tiredness out of her eyes ahead of what was sure to be a difficult conversation. They’d all nominally had a chance to get some rest once the baby was out of immediate danger, but she didn’t think any of them had really slept. For her own part, she’d kept rising to check on the little girl even when it was not her turn to sit with her. She and Kettle had found her, and she felt responsible for her wellbeing. 

Kettle was another worry - she had seen the way her lover looked at the baby, especially when it clicked in her mind that they had both been abandoned by their mothers. She’d never gotten over the gaping wound that was her mother’s absence, and Apple was afraid it would create a bond between them - a bond that would only end in heartbreak once they inevitably found a home for the infant. 

“It appears we’ve found ourselves in… a rather unusual predicament,” began the Abbess. 

“That’s one way of putting it,” said Apple, wryly.

“We need to decide what we’re going to do with her. The natural place to start is with the birthmother - it is possible she made a mistake that she is now sorely regretting, or she gave up her baby for reasons we could help her with.”

“Even if those things were true,” interjected Kettle, “she still left her baby out in the cold in the middle of the night. If we hadn’t found her and got her help, she’d be dead.  _ Should _ we give her back if we find her?”

“We would need to give it careful consideration - but truthfully, if we found the birthmother and she wanted her back, we’d have no right to keep her. Apple - could you have some Greys make some subtle enquiries in Verity? Someone must know something.”

Apple nodded. “I’ll dispatch them when we’re done here. If there’s information to be found, they’ll find it.”

“There’s also the matter of where she’ll stay while we carry out this search - I happen to know that the orphanages in Verity are entirely full. The war left many orphans - they’re struggling to feed and house the children they already have. I can try and arrange a place for her when one becomes available, but until then… I really think she’ll have to stay here.”

Apple blinked, surprised. Sweet Mercy was a Convent that trained warriors and assassins - it wasn’t a nursery. Where would she  _ sleep _ ? Who would take care of her? She turned to ask the Abbess this, but Kettle had already beaten her to it. 

“Well…” said Rule, a note of trepidation in her voice. “She obviously can’t stay in the dormitories, she’s far too young. And Rose is overworked here at the best of times - she wouldn’t get the care she needs. I was thinking - it wouldn’t be permanent, of course, just until a space in the orphanage becomes available - that she could, perhaps, stay with you in your quarters in the Shade Caverns? They’re big and quiet enough that she wouldn’t be disturbed at all hours by the comings and goings of novices.”

If Apple was surprised a few moments ago, she was  _ stunned _ now. It’s not that she didn’t care about the little girl - she did. She’d spent half the night trying to save her. But not wanting her to die and committing herself to caring for her for however many weeks it would take were two  _ very _ different things. Besides - she didn’t know the first  _ thing _ about children this young. She was a more than competent teacher, true, but the novices were older - and could be kept in line either with poison or the threat or poison. That wasn’t exactly something that would work with an infant. 

“But,” she looked up at the Abbess, and for some reason - later, she and Kettle would look back and say it was the will of the Ancestor - her valid protestations died in her throat. “I have classes to teach,” she finished, lamely. 

“Let’s not pretend that Kettle doesn’t sleep in your chambers every night. I’ve been willing to look past it, which is more than some of my predecessors would have done - so it’s not like you’ll be alone. If Shade class does prove too much, you can have one of your Greys cover it. Doubtless they’ll appreciate the experience. Besides - it’s not often there’s a baby in the Convent. I imagine you’ll have no shortage of babysitters. Now,” she swallowed, “if this has been decided, I’ll go and see to the arrangements.”

She left the room before any of them could protest. Apple looked to Kettle, who was holding the baby and seemed to be repressing a smile. “Were we just… given custody of a baby?”

“Looks like it,” said Kettle cheerfully. She bent down to tickle the little girl’s stomach. “We’re going to have lots of fun, aren’t we?”

* * *

It took all morning and a good chunk of the afternoon to get everything set up in the Shade Caverns. Word of their… unexpected charge spread around the Convent quickly and they had no shortage of well-wishers. Some of them came simply to gawk - Apple dispensed with these swiftly, her reputation coming in useful - but others tried to offer them advice. The helpfulness of this advice varied dramatically, but Kettle appreciated the sentiment behind it. 

Finally, they had a moment to breathe. It all felt so surreal - this time yesterday, Apple was teaching a class and Kettle had been writing a report. They’d both been looking forward to their night out and to the subsequent lazy Sevenday they’d been planning on spending in bed. They hadn’t anticipated  _ this _ .

Kettle wasn’t unhappy with the way everything had unfolded, per se - she and Apple would be better able to care for the baby than some overcrowded orphanage. It was just… a surprise. One she didn’t think her lover was entirely on board with. 

“She’ll need a name,” said Kettle, at last. Both women had been silent for the past few minutes, taking stock of their current situation. The baby was asleep in her crib - where on Abeth Rule had been able to find _ that _ , Kettle didn’t know. 

“Is that wise?” answered Apple. “She won’t be here forever.”

“Well, we can’t keep calling her ‘the baby’ forever. If...whoever… is responsible for her after us wants to change it, they can do that - she’ll be too young to remember - but we need something to call her.”

Apple nodded. “I suppose so.” She looked down at the baby, as if considering, before looking back up at Kettle. “Any ideas?”

Kettle almost laughed at the absurdity of the situation - the last time she’d had to choose a name for anything, it had been for _ herself _ way back in Red Class. Now she had to name an actual baby. She could feel the hysteria that had gripped her for part of the previous night begin to make a return, but she tamped it down - now was not the time. 

“Hm… in situations like this, isn’t it customary to name an abandoned baby after the people who found her?”

Apple snorted. “I doubt she’s going to become a nun, and if she’s not then she’ll get bullied for a name like  _ Apple _ or  _ Kettle _ . I suppose  _ Mai _ or  _ Grace _ would be better, but the meaning of the gesture is lost somewhat if we give her a name no one aside from us really knows.”

She pondered. Apple was likely right - she usually was, not that Kettle would admit as much out loud. “True… Rose also saved her, and has a more usual name. Do you think that could work?”

“Possibly,” responded Apple. “But… Rose would be insufferable if we named the baby after her, we’d never hear the end of it. I do like the sentiment, though… perhaps another flower name? It would honor the person who saved her whilst also giving her her own identity to grow into.”

Kettle smiled, enthused. “I like that idea! Let’s see… Daisy, Poppy, Marigold, Lily… anything sticking?”

“Lily,” said Apple, softly. “I like Lily.”

Kettle took her hand, an odd wave of emotion rushing over her. This moment felt important, somehow. “Me too.”

She turned to the baby, who was just beginning to stir from her (too short) slumber. “What do you say, little one? Do you like Lily, too?”

Lily wailed in response.

“We’ll take that as a yes,” said Apple, dryly.

* * *

A week later, Apple and Kettle were awoken by a cry in the middle of the night for what felt like the millionth time. As Grey Sisters, both were used to going long periods without sleep - some missions didn’t allow for it, at least not safely - but baby Lily was pushing even them to their limits. 

“It’s your turn,” Kettle groaned, before putting her head under the pillow and falling back into unconsciousness. 

“Thanks a bunch,” muttered Apple.  _ Ancestor _ , she was exhausted. In Shade Class yesterday, she hadn’t even had the energy to come up with a creative way to poison the late novices. She’d resorted to contact poisoning like some kind of  _ amateur _ . Forget resistance training - she should just make apprentice Sisters of Discretion stay with Lily for a week. They’d quickly learn to survive without sleep.

She picked up the crying baby, whispering comforting nothings to her. She tried to keep her voice down, so as not to wake Kettle. As much as she may grumble now, it  _ was _ her turn - her lover had been the one to get up with the baby most of the previous night. 

“Are you hungry, little one?” she asked, mostly as a formality. The baby could not actually answer her, and besides - she was always hungry. Apple prepared a bottle and watched as the little girl drank greedily.

She smiled, a hint of fondness breaking into the expression. Lily could be cute - sometimes. She’d admit - they weren’t managing as poorly as she thought they would be, sleeplessness aside. She and Kettle had always made a good team, and this was no exception. They’d managed to find a tentative rhythm that allowed Apple to continue teaching her classes and Kettle to carry out her duties around the Convent - she’d worried about being left alone with the baby, at first, but it had worked out okay, really. 

Lily even seemed to  _ like _ her - as much as a newborn baby liked anyone. She cried less when she or Kettle were around, anyway, and Apple thought that might just be the highest honour in baby-land. 

Once Lily had finished her bottle and been appropriately burped, Apple rocked her gently, trying to lull her back to sleep. Mercifully, this happened quickly. She sent a swift prayer to the Ancestor in thanks - sometimes it could take  _ ages _ . She put her back in her crib and paused, suddenly struck. Lily really _ was _ sweet when she slept - it was just a shame that it didn’t happen more often. 

She pressed a gentle kiss to the baby’s forehead. “Sweet dreams, little one.”

Apple sagged back into bed, ready to grab however many minutes of sleep Lily would permit her to have. Kettle’s arms encircled her. 

“You’re getting better with her, you know,” she whispered. 

“Sshhh, sleep,” murmured Apple, though she fell back into Kettle's embrace. 

* * *

Lily was particularly irritable today. She didn’t seem to want to settle and demanded constant attention. Apple had been teaching classes all morning, so Kettle was alone with her. Normally, she wouldn’t mind - she was becoming more and more enamored with the little girl every day, and was often bored around the Convent without an assignment anyway. But today she was being so fussy that it was beginning to grate on even Kettle’s substantial nerves. 

So, then - a walk. She’d show the baby around the Convent and hope it would calm her down. If nothing else, it might assuage Kettle’s own mood. With the exception of any duties, they’d been mostly confined to the Shade Caverns with Lily. The Abbess didn’t want the little girl to be the subject of too many rumours, so she thought it best to keep her hidden until her situation was more secure. Kettle agreed, to a point - the baby would surely not appreciate being poked and prodded by curious novices - but the four walls of their chambers were becoming dreadfully dull. For the sanity of everyone involved, Kettle thought it best that Lily saw some light.

Thus far, her plot was working - the baby had stopped wailing, at least. Her little eyes were wide as she took in her new surroundings with interest. It really was very sweet. The novices around them whispered, but were on the younger side so did not dare to approach. 

“This is the courtyard, sweetling,” she said, vaguely pointing to parts of greenery. “This is where novices meet and talk to each other in between classes. I think you’d like it here very much.” An image played across Kettle’s mind, then - an older Lily, maybe five or six, running around this very courtyard with some of the Red Class girls, she and Apple looking on with matching fond smiles on their faces. 

She shook her head, dispelling the vision. This kind of thinking wasn’t helpful - the arrangement was temporary. As much as they were enjoying it - and they were, despite the difficulties - Lily deserved to be with people who could give her everything she needed. 

“Come on,” she said, tickling the baby’s stomach, “let’s go and see what Nona and Ara are up to.”

They found the two Sisters in Blade Hall practicing sparring together. Kettle was almost loath to interrupt them - they seemed absorbed in both the task and one another.  _ Then again _ , she thought with a mischievous smile _ , the two of them have interrupted me and Appy enough times… perhaps some payback is in order.  _

She cleared her throat, and the two girls - women, really, Kettle really must stop thinking of them as teenagers - dropped their weapons, looking oddly guilty - as if they were caught doing something they shouldn’t. If they kept this up, they’d be as appalling at keeping their relationship a secret as she and Apple were. 

Arabella appeared momentarily put out, but her countenance soon changed when she noticed the bundle in Kettle’s arms. She smiled widely and ran over. “Lily! Say hello to your Auntie Ara.”

Kettle handed the baby over. The prim and proper Sister Thorn, hero of Sweet Mercy, began to make a series of funny faces which Lily, as far as they could tell, found very amusing. Ara had been a frequent visitor these past few weeks - Lily liked her, and she was one of only a handful of people that both she and Apple trusted with the little girl. 

Nona stayed at her position at the weapons rack, saying nothing. She looked at Ara and Lily with an odd expression on her face - there was fondness there, but nervousness too. She seemed unsure of herself. Kettle realised then that she hadn’t seen much of the girl she regarded as both her protégée and her friend since Lily arrived. She’d come by once or twice with Ara, but had been quiet then also. 

“Is everything alright, Nona?” she asked, trying not to let her concern show too obviously. 

“Why wouldn’t it be?” she replied, her expression becoming guarded.

“We just… haven’t seen much of each other lately, that’s all.” They’d gone longer than this before - but that had mostly been when Kettle was on a mission. If they were both in the Convent, they generally spent time together. It was a habit years in the making. An odd kind of guilt pooled in her gut - was Nona  _ jealous _ of the time she’d been spending with Lily? 

The martial sister shrugged. “It’s okay, you’re busy. I get that - I’m busy too. This whole teaching thing is a lot of work.”

Ara paused her doting and looked up at them. “It’s true,” she said, with a sly grin, “And this time, she can’t copy off me.”

Nona smiled and rolled her eyes. “I only did that a  _ few  _ times. Besides, you still help me out plenty.”

Kettle watched them banter fondly - she was glad they’d finally gotten their act together and realised how madly in love with one another they were. It had been obvious to everyone  _ except  _ them for quite some time. They both seemed happy - she doubted jealousy was the issue. 

_ What _ , then? Kettle narrowed her eyes, thinking. It must be something to do with the baby. This… distance between them hadn’t existed beforehand. “Nona,” she asked, carefully. “Would you like to hold Lily?”

She paled instantly. “N-no. I’m good. She seems happy over there, with Ara.”

Ah. So, she’d been right then. Ara also noticed Nona’s hesitation. “It’s alright, I don’t mind. Here,” she said, holding the baby out to her.

Nona shrank back. “Why don’t you want to hold her?” Kettle asked, not bothering to hide her concern this time.

“I just - she’s so little. I’m scared I’ll break her.”

Ara laughed softly. “You won’t break her, Nona. Yes, she’s little, you just have to be gentle. Have you never held a baby before?”

Nona shook her head. “No. There were some babies in my village, but I was a Little myself then. They didn’t trust me near them. Especially not after - well, you know. And then I was at the Caltess, and then here. Not much time to learn how to hold babies.”

“I think we’re all in a pretty similar position,” answered Kettle. “We’ve all been at this Convent a long time. But see - we can learn together. And it’s not like this is permanent.” A pang went through her at the thought. Ara frowned, eyes narrowing. 

“It’s… not just that,” said Nona after a pause. “It’s…my hands.”

“Your  _ hands _ ?” replied Kettle incredulously.  _ What on Abeth was the girl talking about? _

“Not my hands, exactly, but the things they’ve done. The blood on them. I’ve killed so many. I - should they be allowed to hold something so pure, so innocent as that little girl?”

Nona appeared genuinely distressed. Kettle understood, likely better than the girl thought she did. It was something she worried about herself - she cared for Lily, deeply, and she knew - despite her protestations - that Apple did, too. But what kind of future could they offer the child? They killed people in service to the Ancestor - or taught other children to do so. She had so much blood staining her hands that Nona’s looked clean in comparison. It was for the best that Lily would not be staying forever.

Still, Nona was being ridiculous - she could at least  _ hold _ the baby. The child wouldn’t become a murderer by osmosis. “Nona,” she said, flatly, “I’ve killed at least as many as you, and have been doing it for longer. Lily’s been by my side almost constantly for the past few weeks. I think she can tolerate being in your arms for a few minutes without anything bad happening to her.”

It appeared as if Sister Cage was about to argue - she never did like to lose an argument - but a pointed look from Ara silenced her. Her face softened and she lost some of the nervousness that had been haunting her. “Alright,” she reletented, “but just for a few minutes.”

Ara smiled and handed Lily over to her. The baby issued a whine of displeasure as she left the arms of her favourite babysitter, but quickly quieted as she took in this new face with interest. 

Nona held her as if she was made of glass. There was something almost comical about it - Mistress Blade was somewhat known for her ability to think with her fists instead of her brain. She rarely treated anything with such gentleness - except, perhaps, for Ara.

“Hi,” she whispered. “I’m Sister Cage, but you can call me Nona. It’s nice to finally meet you.” Something odd passed over her face, then. “There’s a lot of bad people in this world - but I’m going to protect you from them. That much I promise.”

Kettle’s heart ached. She forced a smile. “That’s - very gallant of you, Nona, but you know - Lily isn’t staying here forever. The arrangement was always that she’d live at Sweet Mercy only until a place at the orphanage in Verity opened up for her.” The words felt bitter on her tongue. 

Arabella arched a perfect, golden eyebrow. “Oh come  _ on _ ,” she scoffed, “why  _ can’t _ she stay here? It’s clear you and Apple are crazy about her. And she’s already settled! Sending her away would only cause more disruption in her life.”

“I…” Kettle hesitated. It was hard to have to argue against something she desperately wanted - but it was for the best. “Sweet Mercy’s not exactly an ideal place to raise a baby. It’s all well and good now, when she’s only a few weeks old, but what about when she gets older and starts moving by herself? There’s any number of substances down in the Shade Caverns that could kill her in less than a minute”

Ara shrugged. “There’s no such thing as a safe place to bring up a baby. They could swallow an ordinary household item and choke on it in any house in Abeth. Besides - if she does accidentally ingest something poisonous, who better to have on hand than The Poisoner? It’s  _ love _ that matters most, and she clearly has that.”

Kettle said nothing in response. There were any number of arguments swirling around her mind, but she didn’t have the energy to vocalise them. Besides - little could sway Arabella Jotsis when she had her heart set on something. 

Noticing her hesitation, Ara’s face softened. “Just think about it,” she said gently, “It might work out better than you’d think. Besides, you’d have Auntie Ara and Auntie Nona here to help you out.”

* * *

Lily was leaving tomorrow. Kettle wasn’t sure exactly how time had passed so quickly - it felt like only yesterday that they found her on their doorstep. But it had been two months - two months and the little girl had wriggled her way into every aspect of their lives. She was both a little terror and the best thing that had ever happened to them. Kettle had been stabbed, poisoned and pushed into the Shadow - but she thought saying goodbye to Lily may just be the hardest thing she’d ever have to do. 

The others had done so the previous night. Ara, who’d spent the last several weeks trying to convince them to keep the baby, seemed to have finally resigned herself to their decision. She’d kissed the little girl’s cheek and told her she was loved, before offering Kettle and Apple a final, withering glare. 

Nona had no such compunctions. “You  _ can’t _ give her up. She’s happy here!  _ You’re _ happy with her! It doesn’t make sense!”

Kettle sighed. She was tired of this argument - there was only so many times she could say something that she believed to be true but desperately didn’t want to be. She opened her mouth to tell her that this was for the best, but Apple beat her to it. 

“Enough!” she snapped. It was the voice she used in the classroom, and caused Nona to do a double take. Under the table, she grabbed Kettle’s hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “We’ve been through this. Several times. We’re giving Lily up to give her her best chance. We don’t think we can give that to her, so we’re giving her to people we hope can. End of discussion.”

“But -” 

“End of discussion. Say your goodbyes, and leave. She needs to get some sleep. The next few days are going to be big for her.” Her voice hitched as she spoke, but they all paid her the courtesy of pretending not to notice. 

That had been last night. Today, though - today was for  _ them.  _ Today, they'd say their goodbyes to her. The plan was to take her into Verity, just the three of them, and spend the day together. Lily wouldn’t remember it, of course - she was still far too young - but they wanted to do it. They wanted her to know that, whatever happens to her next and wherever she ends up, in the short time she was with them at Sweet Mercy, she was loved. It wasn’t something either of them could deny any more. 

Kettle had spent the rest of the previous night preparing. She’d known she wouldn’t be able to sleep after Nona and Ara left - their words kept circling round and round in her mind, providing possibilities she didn’t dare imagine - so she went to the kitchens to beg, borrow or steal the food they’d need. The Sisters in charge of the kitchens usually didn’t like giving handouts - too many novices regularly badgered them - but to her great surprise, they handed over what she asked for without comment. Some even looked at her with pity in their eyes. 

She couldn’t stand it. 

Apple met her at the door of the Convent, Lily in her arms. They were quite the picture, the two of them. Her lover had been wary of the little girl, at first - hadn’t been quite so willing to throw herself into caring for her. She’d always guarded her heart carefully, reluctant to let people in. It didn’t always work, of course - it hadn’t with Kettle, nor with Ara and Nona, and it was obvious to anyone with eyes that it also was not working with Lily. She loved the little girl, just as much as Kettle herself did. It would be hard on both of them when she was gone. 

“You ready?” Apple asked, eyeing the basket in Kettle’s arms. “What’ve you got there?”

“Supplies,” she replied, affecting an aura of mystery. 

Apple arched an eyebrow, a ghost of a smile appearing on her lips. “Another food heist?”

Kettle snorted, remembering. “No. They just gave me what I needed. Apparently  _ this one _ ,” she ticked Lily absently, “elicits more sympathy from them than you on your sickbed. Who’d’ve thought.”

“Hm,” Apple conceded, “might be because they’re often the unfortunate victims of my punishments. A cook’s reputation tends to suffer when someone keeps slipping poison into their food. Hard to know.”

They proceeded down the steep slope into Verity. There was something almost poetic about the journey - the last time they’d made it, they’d found Lily. This time, it signaled their last full day together. So much had happened in the interim it was hard to make sense of it all. The significance of the moment was lost on the baby - she took in the new scenery with wide eyes, gurgling happily from her spot in Apple’s arms. 

Finally, they reached the city - or what remained of it. It was recovering quite nicely - after more than a year, much of the physical rebuilding had been completed - but it was still a far cry from the sprawling metropolis it had been before the war. Kettle had a spot in mind - a green in the centre of town. It wouldn’t be packed with merchants, and they’d have some degree of privacy.

As they made their way over, both kept their minds firmly on Lily, drinking in every limited moment with her. The baby had never seen so many people congregated so closely together before - her little eyes darted from person to person, observing the new faces. She didn’t seem to pick up on their distress - which was good, Kettle thought - they wanted this day to be a happy one, for however long she would remember it. 

It didn’t take them long to reach the park. Kettle laid out a blanket she’d brought with her and Apple gently placed Lily down on it. The little girl kicked happily, enjoying the small freedom and the new view it afforded her. 

“Now what?” asked Apple.

“Now,” replied Kettle, pulling the food out of the basket and laying it before them, “we have a picnic.”

If they’d been out for any other reason, it would have been a wonderful afternoon. As it was, they made the best of it. They ate, drank and laughed with the baby sandwiched between them. Neither one could help reaching down to touch the little girl - caress her cheek, hold her hand, press a swift kiss to her forehead. They knew they wouldn’t have the opportunity to do so for long. 

Kettle, half-remembering similar picnics she’d gone on with her own family before everything went wrong, made a tentative suggestion. “We should tell her a story.”

Apple raised an eyebrow. “What kind of story?”

She shrugged. “Any kind. She’s a baby - doesn’t have to be a narrative masterpiece. Mostly, it’s good for her to hear our voices.”

Her lover thought for a second, before nodding. “Alright then. I’ll start - once upon a time -”

Kettle snorted at the clichéd start. Apple shot her a playful glare, and resumed. “As I was saying,  _ once upon a time _ , there was a little girl. She was born without a name to a woman who was unable to care for her. She was left on a Convent doorstep. This would make most little girls sad - but not  _ this _ one, because she was the bravest little girl in the whole world.”

Apple ran a finger over Lily’s cheek as she said this. The baby stared up at her, enraptured. Kettle could not tell if it was because of the story or their undivided attention. Perhaps a little of both. “She was discovered by two servants of the Ancestor, who took her in and gave her a name. She stayed with them, for a time. It was not always easy - but both women gave their hearts to the little girl. She became their whole world. As much as they loved her, though - they could not keep her. They needed to give her away so she could have her best chance. The little girl was going to have to be very brave again - but that was okay. She’s the bravest girl in the world, and she’s going to make some lucky people very, very happy.”

She broke away, a sob catching in her throat. Kettle’s own cheeks were wet. Lily continued to look at them, but was mercifully quiet. They fell into one another’s arms, crying quietly. “Are you sure we’re doing the right thing?” Kettle asked. 

Apple pulled away, wiping the tears in her eyes in a fruitless attempt to banish them. “I don’t know,” she said at last. “I just don’t know. But I do know that she deserves the world, and I’m not sure what kind of life we can give her. It’s going to hurt like hell, but if it’s what’s best for her - we need to let her go.”

Kettle closed her eyes. She wanted this  _ so _ badly. She’d never thought she’d find herself here - becoming a nun sort of implied that she’d already resigned herself to the prospect of never becoming a mother. Before Lily came along, she’d been fine with that. But Lily had changed everything. Listening to Nona and Ara talk had  _ almos _ t convinced her they’d be able to do it.

But Apple was right - they couldn’t think only of themselves. They had to do what was best for Lily. 

And that was giving her up. 

She opened her eyes again and nodded. “Okay,” she said, “I agree. We’ll go ahead with the plan tomorrow.” She picked up Lily from the blanket and held her close. Apple wrapped her arms around them both. They stayed like that for a long time, neither of them saying a word.

* * *

The next day came far too quickly. Apple didn’t think any of them would sleep knowing what was coming, but their outing had been so emotionally draining that they’d gone down without too many difficulties. Even Lily woke up fewer times than was normal for her - though that night of all nights, neither Apple nor Kettle minded sitting with her. 

It felt as if a shroud was hanging over them that morning - as if they were preparing themselves to go to a service for the dead. Unlike in the green, Lily picked up on the gloomy atmosphere. She fussed, insisting on being held and wailing when she was put back in her crib. It made the business of packing away her things difficult - it really was remarkable just how much  _ stuff _ she’d managed to accumulate in the few short months she’d been with them - but neither of them could say they really minded. They savoured every last moment with her.

The walk into Verity was equally sombre. They’d arranged for a wagon to take her things down later - neither of them wanted to part with her sooner than was necessary to deal with something so trivial. The Abbess hadn’t said a word about the additional expense - possibly, she felt bad for having put them in this situation in the first place. Apple  _ wished _ she could blame the other woman, but the alternative meant they would never have gotten to know Lily in the first place, and she couldn’t quite bring herself to long for that. It was better to have loved Lily and lost her than to have never known her at all. 

The orphanage was near the centre of Verity, not far from the green they’d visited yesterday.  _ Perhaps _ , Apple thought dully,  _ when she’s older, she’ll be allowed out to play there. That’ll be nice.  _ The building itself was run-down, and parts of it looked like it had been damaged in the battle and poorly repaired. This was not unexpected - much of Verity was in a similar condition, and some places were still rubble. Still - it did not bode well. Apple noticed that her lover’s hands tightened her hold on Lily, as if trying to protect her from what waited within. 

They stepped inside. If the outside was dilapidated, then inside was… something else. It was filthy - the floor had clearly not been swept in some time. Stains of Ancestor-only-knew-what coalesced on the walls, and the ceiling showed tell-tale signs of damp. Sister Mop would have wept to see it. Apple was on the verge of tears herself - she’d seen any number of unfortunate dwelling places on various Grey missions, but few had been as bad as this and she’d been expected to leave her baby in exactly none. 

What was worse than the state of the building itself was the state of the children. More than half a dozen ran around the small room, ages varying, entirely unsupervised.They were as dirty as their surroundings, bedraggled clothing hanging off stick-thin frames. One of the smaller ones smelled as if he might have soiled himself. Many of them were sporting bruises - but not in places that were readily apparent. If not for her trained eye, she likely would not have noticed them.

Apple felt her blood boil at the sight of it. This could not be allowed to continue. Something would have to be done. 

From her position in Kettle’s arms, Lily let out a piteous wail. No doubt, the overall despair of the place had gotten to her. Kettle made comforting motions, but Apple could see the fury in her lover’s eyes. 

“Girl,” roared a voice in the distance, “Didn’t I tell you to make sure the little ones kept it down? Give them a dose of gin if you have to - not the good stuff, mind.”

It appeared that Lily’s cry had roused the matron. Despite Kettle’s best efforts to comfort her, the woman’s harsh tone only made her cry harder. She was used to the quiet of the Shade Caverns or the Convent between classes. No doubt, the raised voice was frightening for her. 

“GIRL,” shouted the matron, her voice thundering closer, “SHUT THAT RACKET UP.  _ Ancestor _ , I don’t know why I even bother. I’ll wring her ungrateful fucking neck later.” Finally, the owner of the voice appeared in the room. She was an older woman - perhaps of an age with Abbess Rule, but had the exact opposite of the elder nun’s kindly demeanor. Her face, fixed in a deep scowl, was hard and lined. She reeked of strong spirits. 

When she spotted Apple and Kettle - as well as the source of the noise in their arms - her expression changed. She forced a fake smile and said, in a sickly sweet voice - a stark contrast to the tone she’d used only a moment ago when barking orders, “Are you the two women from the Convent? I was under the impression you would not be arriving until tomorrow. Why, this must be little Lucy!”

“Lily,” corrected Apple, her voice icy. “And you were mistaken. The appointment was always for today.”

“Uh… of course. Right you are. Let’s step into my office, we can talk business. You there,” she said to one of the children - perhaps the girl she had initially been shouting for - fetch these nice ladies something to drink. Be quick about it.”

They were escorted into the office. This was much cleaner - it was as run down as the rest of the building but lacked the overall air of neglectfulness that the entryway had. Clearly, the matron made more of an effort with her own space. There was even an attempt at decoration, as well as what looked like a fully stocked liquor cabinet. She went to her desk and rustled around for some papers.

“My name is Grelod,” she said, her voice still aiming for a fake kind of courtesy. She failed miserably.  _ Ancestor _ , thought Apple,  _ Red Class novices could do a better job at hiding their emotions than this woman _ . “I’d be delighted to take Lena off your hands. A vacancy recently opened up, as I’m sure you’re aware.”

“Yes,” said Apple, a dangerous glint in her eyes that she didn’t bother to conceal.  _ Let _ this woman be afraid of her. “I was wondering - exactly how did this vacancy open up?”

“A child was adopted,” she replied without so much as a blink. “Nice family, very wealthy.”

Apple strongly doubted that. “May we have a moment alone with her? To say goodbye?”

Grelod nodded. “Of course,” she said, though the expression on her face implied she thought they were insane for voluntarily choosing to spend another moment with a child. “Just fill out these forms in the meantime and call me when you’re finished.”

She left the room, closing the door with a bang. Apple waited until she heard her footsteps get further away before turning to Kettle. Her lover was staring down at the baby, a resigned expression on her face. 

“We’re  **not** leaving her here,” she said. She’d known this the moment they’d stepped inside this cursed place, and it was a belief that grew only more fervent the longer they were here.

“But,” replied Kettle, confusion in her eyes. “We’ve talked about this - frequently. Lily needs to be somewhere that can give her things that we can’t.”

Apple scoffed. “Look at this place, Kettle. Do you really think it can do that?”

“Well, no, but… maybe another orphanage?”

“There aren’t any others. I looked at all the reports and this is supposed to be the best one.”

“What are you saying?” said Kettle, a traitorous gleam of hope in her eyes. She’d wanted to keep Lily from the start, Apple knew. It was only later that she - that they - became convinced it couldn’t be a permanent solution. 

“I… I’m saying that I think she should stay with us.” She spoke in a rush, scarcely believing the words that were coming out of her mouth. She’d always been the practical one in this scenario, the one who came up with a thousand reasons why it could never work. It had taken the prospect of actually being parted from her - worse, seeing the appalling conditions in the place that they were to leave her in to change her mind. 

“Everything we talked about is still true, though. This isn’t going to be easy.”

Apple nodded, trying to drag herself back down to Abeth. “I know. And we’re going to have to really think about how we’re going to manage when she gets older, but - we both love her. We were willing to give her up before because we thought it was her best chance. I  _ refuse _ to do it for anything less than that.”

Kettle surges forward and kisses her then, Lily squished between them. It was a quick and passionate embrace, one that spoke to the sheer relief that Kettle felt. She pulled away, readjusted the baby and laughed, tears stinging the corner of her eyes. 

The sheer, unbridled joy in her lover’s expression was enough to quash any lingering doubts Apple may have had. The last few years had not been easy for them - the war had parted Kettle from her side more often than she’d like, and they’d both come close to losing one another on multiple occasions. But they’d survived it - and now it was time to thrive. 

“Come on,” said Kettle, finally. “Let’s get out of this miserable place.”

“A moment. I’m going to leave a gift for dear old Grelod first.” She picked the lock on the liquor cabinet with ease and picked out the most expensive open bottle. She took a small vial out from beneath her Grey cloak and tipped it in. “There,” she said, darkly satisfied. “She won’t have an easy night, and will be dead by morning. This place will be in need of a new matron - we can talk to the Abbess about that. Some of the Holies might want to volunteer. Besides, some of those children look old enough to be in Red Class.”

“Good,” said Kettle, entwining her hand with Apple’s. “Now, let’s bring Lily home.”

* * *

_ Once upon a time, a baby girl was found abandoned at a Convent doorstep. She was taken in by two servants of the Ancestor. These women loved her very much, but thought that they wouldn’t be able to keep her. They told the little girl she would need to be brave for what was to come.  _

_ The little girl was indeed brave - but not because she needed to be. The two nuns changed their minds, you see, and decided to let her live with them - vanquishing an evil queen as they did so. It was the best decision they ever made. They loved and protected the little girl for the rest of her life, and she became an incredible warrior in her own right.  _

_ They all lived happily ever after.  _

**Author's Note:**

> mark lawrence: apple is dead
> 
> me: .......anyway, not only is apple alive, but she and kettle are stronger than ever and also have a kid.


End file.
